


The Temptation of Anthony J. Crowley

by Lilbluebox



Series: Good Omens Discord Prompts [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dramatic Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), aziraphale tempts crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 04:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilbluebox/pseuds/Lilbluebox
Summary: When it comes to Crowley, Aziraphale's temptations are unparalleled.





	The Temptation of Anthony J. Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: cuddling

Crowley is draped over his shoulders, face resting on his shoulder, arms tucked loosely around his middle. Aziraphale can’t say he minds, because he very much does not, but it is interesting, how the world manages not to end with very little intervention on their part, and how they fool Heaven and Hell into leaving them alone for at least a little bit, and Crowley takes the opportunity to turn into the most languid cuddler he’s ever had the fortune to meet.

(Although to be fair, this is hardly news. Aziraphale’s known for millennia that Crowley seeks out heat sources, has watched the wily old serpent burrow himself in blankets on Aziraphale’s couch, has been the victim - but only for appearance’s sake, mind - of drunken, snake-like hugs that last longer than is strictly appropriate. It’s just that now, there’s no reason to pretend it’s anything other than what it is - affection and love in equal measure, so strong he’s practically giddy with it.

The sensation puts Tadfield to shame, really.)

And yet, he really would rather sit down now that he’s shooed off the last of his customers and closed up shop. “Crowley, dear,” he says, and pokes a bit at Crowley’s hands. 

“Mmph. What.”

Aziraphale smiles. He can’t help it. He’s always smiled a lot, but it’s been nearly constant lately, and he knows exactly who to thank for it. “It’s a bit difficult to sit with you hanging off my shoulders like that.”

Golden eyes crack open and give him a sleepy, considering look. “Want me to move, angel?”

“If you would be so kind.”

Instead of doing that, Crowley makes a face, mutters something indistinct into Aziraphale’s shoulder, then finally peels himself off in a dramatic slink that leaves him artfully flung up against a bookshelf as if he’d intended to lean there all along. “Oh, don’t be like that,” Aziraphale chides, amused, and lets his fingers dance consideringly across the spines of his books before he plucks one from the shelf. “There’s plenty of room for two on the couch, if you’ll recall.”

Crowley’s eyes gleam. “Was that a _temptation_, Aziraphale?”

“I suppose that depends on whether or not it works,” Aziraphale replies blithely, and Crowley tips to one side, an impossibly fond smile on his face. 

“From you? Always.”

Aziraphale flushes, flustered. “Oh, you,” he says, and quite intentionally passes close enough to Crowley to feel his breath against his cheek on the way to the couch. 

“You’re better at my job than I am,” Crowley mutters, half-strangled, and flops down on the couch after Aziraphale with absolutely no coordination, face half-buried in his lap. 

Idly, Aziraphale tangles his fingers in Crowley’s hair. “Old job, surely, love.”

“Ngk.”


End file.
